Diary of a Vampeen: Vamp Yourself for War

by Unknown

  “Oh,” I frowned knowing he was right.

  “May I?” he asked gesturing to the space beside me on the twin sized mattress. I nodded and he settled beside me. In this moment he was the big brother I needed but didn’t biologically have; he cradled me in his arms protectively.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Umm, fine I guess. What exactly happened to me?”

  “You were shot with a ten million dollar bullet that dispersed the moment it entered your body. It was supposed to clog all your arteries and essentially suffocate you to death since the oxygen in our blood circulating is our air supply. It works best if shot into your heart. Lucky for you she missed and hit just above it. Concurrently it carried a substance that knocked you out so you couldn’t drink and counter act the potion so you had to be drained and refilled this way to revive you,” he explained, his thumb circled my upper arm soothingly.

  “And the voices?”

  “I can only believe it’s a side effect. Hopefully it’s temporary; nonetheless I’ll teach you how to block it.”

  “How… um,” I stammered trying to grasp it all. “How many of you donated?”

  “Pretty much everyone. Your body absorbed a lot to heal on top of the normal twelve pints to supplement you. They collected thirty-six pints total from us. That’s what’s been flowing into you these last twenty-four hours.”

  “A day has gone by?” I sighed in frustration. “I’m seeing very quickly that immortality only means we can live forever not that we’ll ever come close. I mean we’re vampires and yet everyday a new weapon is released that can kill us. I don’t care if it costs a trillion dollars; it’s out there. More and more I’m feeling as vulnerable as a human. Even worse, because we’re merely a fraction population wise in comparison, our statistics are a million times worse,” I rambled. I knew I rambled but couldn’t discard the fear and, surprisingly, the anger I harbored over the issue. He didn’t say a word; he listened diligently.

  “Kalel, there is something majorly wrong with this picture. All this technology is erasing our description; it’s morphing and skewing all the facts into questionable fiction. How, I mean why would we allow this to happen? We’re increasing our odds of death daily. And this,” I slung my hand towards my thigh, “It’s not normal. I shouldn’t be capable of being knocked out like that. There shouldn’t be bullets that can kill me or gas that can force me unconscious for twenty minutes. Being in this world is almost worse than being in the human one because here it seems everyone is rich and can afford the expensive threats,” I continued. At that he chuckled.

  “We have a poverty rate too you know. In fact, many of us wander empty handed,” he stated matter of fact. I cut my eyes at him.

  “I’ve met more wealthy vamps than I believe human millionaires exist,” I countered.

  “You’re just in a good location. Charleston is the Basque Country of North America. There are more vamps here than in any other area of the Western Hemisphere. Why do you think the murder rates have tripled over the last few decades?” I scowled at him; he took the hint. “A solid number is probably forty percent of vamps are multi-millionaires. And of that number about thirty percent are vampeens.”

  “Why vampeens?”

  “Because they tend to inherit their money. Usually vampires are single. They don’t go around turning their family members like us,” he offered.

  “Makes sense,” I whispered. We fell silent. I kept looking at the IV. I ran my finger over where it pierced my skin. “Is this still necessary?”

  “Dr. H said he’d be by when this pint is done.” I sighed tugging down on the shirt to conceal it. I caught sight of a flash of red. I leaned down and pushed the rest of the blanket off my feet to reveal perfectly pedicured toes glimmering with bright red polish and white and silver snowflakes.

  “Gabi and Mel insisted. They said you need a burst of holiday cheer. Apparently you get that with red toe nails and snowflakes,” he smiled but the sarcasm didn’t pass over me. I was touched by their gesture and couldn’t help but beam. Likewise though, I was saddened quickly at the thought of Mel.

  “How is she?” My voice was barely audible.

  “Better. Her dad, Scott, has stepped in. He explained everything to her along with Kellan. She was shaken but surprisingly mostly upset about you. I think she feels guilty for her Mom’s actions.”

  “Do you uh… Actually, where am I?” I looked around but found no windows or indications as to where I was.

  “You’re at the army headquarters. They insisted to ensure you were protected. That and they were grateful for your eleven assassin kills.”

  “But I didn’t kill them all.”

  “No but you killed the most and lead the rest of us to them,” he ruffled my hair. I patted my strands and cringed.

  “God I must look like a mess,” I groaned.

  “Far from it. Now I’ll go get Mel. She didn’t donate so you should be good,” he said. He killed my head and hopped up.

  “Knowing her and her guilt I’m sure she tried.” He winked confirming my assumption before opening the door to page her. I assumed since she knew what she was to become through these events that was why they permitted her presence on property before she was technically one of us. She walked in hesitantly; it took her a while to make it over to the bed. Just like Kalel said, I didn’t hear her thoughts.

  “Hey.” I was fidgeting with my hands unsure how she would react. I decided to avoid the subject until she brought it up which coincidentally didn’t take long. She immediately broke down.

  “Oh Lex! I’m so sorry! I… I didn’t know; I swear I didn’t know! I never would have let her. I … Oh, can you ever forgive me?!” She burst into a river of tears.

  “I…” I was stunned speechless. Her mom tried to kill me and failed yet got herself killed for shooting me. It’s a messed up situation. Her mom was dead; I was alive, yet she’s groveling for my forgiveness? I was so sure it would and should be the other way around. I shook my head trying to connect my thoughts which she took as hesitancy.

  “Lex please don’t make me beg. You know I would never do anything to jeopardize our friendship. You’re my sister for crying out loud. I… I found out I would even chose you over my own mother. That has to count for something! Please, please say you forgive me…” She was nearly choking by the end of her plea.

  “Stop Mel. Don’t be silly. Of course I forgive you but there’s nothing to forgive. You didn’t do anything -“ She cut me off though.

  “Whatever happened to guilty by association? If you never met me, if… if we weren’t best friends, you never would have hesitated in killing her which means she never would have shot you.”

  “Who told you that?” I demanded, upset that they coerced a guilt trip on her.

  “Well… I mean everyone told me but only because I couldn’t believe my own mother, the same person who hosted sleepovers for us regularly and gave you birthday and Christmas presents, would kill you. I knew before they told me that you didn’t and wouldn’t hurt her because of me. And I’m so so sorry that she didn’t do the same.” She looked away wiping a few stray tears. She had managed to stop most of them a minute before.

  “Of course now,” I sighed, unsure how to proceed. Once Mel sets her mind to something you have zero chance of altering it.

  “They said you saved her right before she shot you…” She was thoughtful and reflective by this point; eerily calm and yet haunted as she spoke the words.

  “Mel, don’t torture yourself. It’s done. I’m alive and I’m still really sad that she’s not. I should be sorry, not you. Please don’t do this to yourself.” She swallowed and sunk to the end of the bed settling at my feet. “How’s Kyle?”

  “Not so great. My dad took him on vacation to help him get over it.”

  “Why didn’t you go with them?” I asked, but the moment the words departed guilt filled me; I already knew the answer before she replied.

  “I had to make sure you were ok,”
she nearly whispered. Her head hung low as she focused on picking the remnants of polish off her finger nails.

  “I love my toes by the way,” I offered trying to lighten the mood. She finally lifted her head and showed the beginning uplift of a smile. “Umm… How many days until Christmas?” I was crossing my fingers that I hadn’t missed my deadline for everyone’s gifts to be ordered express. It seemed I had lost track of the days over the last few weeks.

  “Three. Well, I guess technically four. Today’s the twenty-first but it’s like eleven already,” she replied pulling out her cell to double check. “11:05pm,” she amended.

  “Knock, knock,” Dr. H announced his arrival for Mel’s sake. “How do you feel Alexa?”

  “Fine. Ready to go home,” I sighed reluctantly. Mel promptly stood from the bed and backed away towards the door.

  “Well you appear to be alert and functioning well. What is your serum level?” He shined a light in my eyes and had me stick out my tongue like any regular doctor.

  “Low, good.” I would have said anything to get out of there. I was tired of missing, more like skipping, chunks of time.

  “Wonderful. I have no reason to hold you at this point. Do you have any questions for me?” He lifted the sheet and in one swift motion removed the IV. The minute it was out I was already healed of the prick.

  “Do I have any pants?” I didn’t see a bag in sight.

  “Kellan has a pair for you,” Mel said. She looked uncomfortable in the room with the doctor. “I uh, I’ll go get him.” She quickly made her escape.

  “Any other questions?” he pressed.

  “What are you doing on Christmas Eve?” He was not expecting this question but seemed pleasantly surprised since a smile crept on his face.

  “I’m always on call Alexa. Medicine takes no holidays and neither do most vamps.”

  “Well, if you feel like celebrating, please feel free to drop by. There are some human traditions I’m not ready to give up.” And I wouldn’t be for a while, if ever. This year moreso than others I needed tradition and normality to rule even if only for that one day.

  “I appreciate the invitation,” he said packing up a few loose items around me.

  “Hey.” Kellan walked over with a pair of leggings in his arms. He chose comfort over fashion in this instance I saw. “Her complexion is much better. She looks rested, beautiful. She’s so adorable when she first wakes up and is a bit of a mess. If it wasn’t for the doctor I would kiss her now. I can’t believe this gorgeous vamp is all mine.”

  “Well, I am,” I smiled.

  “Have a good night,” Dr. H left on cue since Kellan appeared dumbfounded.

  “You too. Thanks for everything,” I waved.

  “You hear my thoughts now? As in all of them?” he choked suddenly nervous.

  “So it seems. It’s only fair though since you hear all of mine,” I shrugged hopping out of bed.

  “I don’t know if I like this,” he thought shifting awkwardly.

  “Well whether you do or don’t doesn’t matter. Kalel knows how to block so we’ll just have to talk to him. Now hand me my pants so I can get dressed and go.” He chuckled at my matter of fact approach.

  The next couple days I kept myself busy every second to avoid thinking about my parents and all that had happened. Kalel somehow got a hold of my guidance counselor. He got all my make-up work and scheduled a time for me to take my final exams before school was back in session. Mel flew out to meet up with her dad and Kyle after a lot of convincing from me and Craig; they were planning to come back New Year’s Eve. Aunt Claire had a lot of loose ends to tie up in California. She was worried and called constantly; each time I assured her that I was fine. In all actuality, I was putting off the inevitable break down. I knew Christmas would be the hardest since so many memories revolved around that day. It was the one day where, vamp or not, it was celebrated the same.

  Every year dad pulled out the Christmas lights the day after Thanksgiving. It was understood that there would be no shopping on that day, only decorating. He went all out; I’m certain our electric bill doubled that month. Outside was Dad’s territory and inside was Mom’s. My mother always had a Martha Stewart feel to her. Everything she did was simple yet it felt custom tailored. Each year she revamped the décor. One year she did all white and silver with popcorn strung in place of green garland around the banister. There were snowmen, crystal ornaments and regal silver candle holders adorned with white candles. It was very upscale yet homey. It was a simple palate of beautiful items. That was my favorite year and the only year Aunt Claire lived in Charleston.

  This year was my turn. I was excited and nervous to take on the project. It proved daunting, but worthwhile. I strung the lights along the roof, without a ladder, in a matter of minutes. I wrapped the bushes and trees in the front yard and added beautiful red ribbon below the white lights around every beam on the porch. I framed the windows and added the cute decorative snowflake clings to the glass. The outside was very welcoming, but my largest accomplishment was inside.

  I stuck with a traditional cherry red and white but added my own funky twist of lime green in my décor colors. At first Kellan and Craig thought I had lost it with the green; by the end though, they were eating their words. All around the house in every room, bathrooms included, were chargers and candles. The dining table had a beautiful centerpiece in a large red glass bowl filled with muted lime green glitter pears. There were two large white candles flanking it. From rugs, to towels and linens, I tried to think of everything just as my mom would have. I wanted Aunt Claire to walk in and feel my mother’s touch in all I had done.

  My favorite tradition of all though was on Christmas Eve. I didn’t know why then, but Dad was always in charge of the baking. Like clockwork, each year at exactly 8pm, he and I would bake Christmas cookies; he claimed Santa wouldn’t leave me gifts if they weren’t freshly baked. We would make hot chocolate, sit and watch classic Christmas movies while the oven worked its magic. Then, once the timer dinged, we decorated and made Santa’s special cup of hot cocoa with whip cream and a dusting of cinnamon. Icing, sprinkles, marshmallows, even chocolate syrup; nothing was off limits on those cookies. It was a cavity’s dream come true. Even once I knew about Santa Clause not being real, we continued the ritual. The only difference was when we were done we devoured most of them in a glutinous feast waiting for midnight to roll around. And once it did; we opened one gift each before going to bed.

  Despite the secrets that surrounded my family, I was never impacted by them. My childhood memories were mostly happy ones. My parents loved me and it showed in every event I recalled. My childhood wasn’t conventional by any means; I was isolated a lot since they didn’t socialize much. I didn’t have the mass of family members, cousins and great aunts and uncles that most boast about, but I didn’t miss them. My parents surrounded me with enough love for all of them. Perhaps that is what I missed the most: their love. Being in this house helped, but I missed their hugs and kisses, their voices with words of encouragement, and the little things they did for me. Ah yes, it’s the little things that I missed the most. And sitting here at the kitchen island, waiting for 8pm to roll around, I felt this longing, the strongest I had since they passed.

  The fire was going, for ambiance more than anything. It was something we always had on Christmas Eve. I stared blankly at the tree positioned in front of the windows showcasing the backyard. It looked enchanting, if I did say so myself. White lights twinkled against the lime green ribbon and red glass ornaments. The only non-red ornaments were the three we always had on the tree regardless of whether or not they matched; they were each of our names engraved on a gold plated holiday village scene. Instead of the traditional star on top of the tree, I decided to replace it with a white angel in honor of my parents. Regardless of what religion you believe, white is always a color of peace. And as for the angel, I felt like one or two had been watching over me especially with my close calls.

  �
�Lex, babe, are you okay?” Kellan asked approaching with ease not wanting to interrupt my dreamlike state.

  “I’m good thanks,” I smiled up at him. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. He and Craig had been diligently glued to my side the past couple days. Kellan was more protective than ever given what had happened to me. The Bladangs had made a point of checking in often as well though they didn’t physically hover over me.

  “I just want to make sure you’re safe. I never want to risk losing you again,” he whispered close to my ear. Hearing all of each other’s thoughts was unnerving for him in the beginning. He’s more detailed and deep than I originally experienced. There is a lot more inside Kellan than even I gave him credit for and it’s made me love him all the more. “I love you too,” he said kissing me gently. We were interrupted by the alarm signaling it’s 8pm. I jumped up out of the stool and ran to the cupboard. “Uh… I guess cookies are more important then me?”

  “Of course not. But you’ll still be there to kiss when I’m done,” I smiled pulling the ingredients out of the pantry.

  “Come on mate. Let the chef work her tongue wagging magic.” Craig came up behind Kellan and slapped his arm around him pulling him away from the kitchen. I mouthed a quick ‘thank you’.

  This was the year. Vampire, vampeen or human, you were going to not only eat, but absolutely love my holiday treats. I pulled out the Kitchen Aid mixer I purchased specifically for tonight and began adding the ingredients for my favorite homemade sugar cookies. Once I spooned them out in even scoops along three sheet pans I started on my newest addition to the evening, chocolate cupcakes with a blood custard filling. Yum! While the double ovens cooked the batter and filled the house with a heavenly, familiar scent, I pulled out the double boiler and began to make our hot blood chocolates. Mid-simmer, family and friends began to arrive.

  “I absolutely adore what you’ve done with the place Lexi. Your mother would be so proud ,” Aunt Claire gushed, tears immediately filling her eyes as she hugged me. “She’s just a baby and yet she’s all grown up doing everything that her mother did for her. Her mother, my sister… who’s… Oh not now Claire. Pull yourself together around the girl. She’s having a hard enough time without you blubbering. What she did though is amazing. She truly has her mother’s touch.”